Lies, lies you dirty jezebel
Why, why, why, why don’t you go to hell?
Smiling equates with happy
But I know they’re miles apart
Just like my, lower heaven
You know so well, my higher hell
Very superstitious, wash your face and hands,
Rid me of the problem, do all that you can,
Keep me in a daydream, keep me goin’ strong,
You don’t wanna save me, sad is my song
And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how
Because maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me
And after all, you’re my wonderwall
Meanwhile lurking by a stone in the mud
Two eyes looked to see what I was
And then, something spoke
And this is what it said to me:
It’s a small world after all.
It’s a small world after all.
It’s a small world after all.
It’s a small, small world.
Yummy, yummy, yummy
I got love in my tummy
And I feel like a-lovin’ you
I got sunshine in my stomach
Like I just rocked my baby to sleep
I got sunshine in my stomach
And I can’t keep me from creeping sleep
Sleep, deep in the deep
[Exactly what I was thinking, buddha_david.]
Please, don’t wake me, no, don’t shake me
Leave me where I am, I’m only sleeping
I’ll elude you, I will lose you
As rehearsal of my despair
When I fell, like someone to die for
And I fell, like someone to die on
You can’t wake up, can’t wake up
You squeeze too hard, you insist on kissing
When it seems like half your face is missing
And your hair’s turned into reptiles hissing
And I can’t wake up to save my life
And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear
I get out - I roam through the streets like a tiger
Let it out - I swing like a bird on a wire
Everywhere you go, everybody knows, oh don’tcha know
Everythin’ you do, anybody new, they’re all on to you
[can we get lions next?]
If U didn’t come 2 party,
Don’t bother knockin’ on my door
I got a lion in my pocket,
And baby he’s ready 2 roar
:: just for you, buddha ::
Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band.
Won’t you take a ride on the flyin’ spoon?
What’s new, pussycat?
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh
What’s new, pussycat?
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, oh
Don’t treat me, baby, like your
Any old alley cat
Alley cat
That I’m
Abraham De Lacy
Guiseppe Casey
Thomas O’Malley
O’Malley the alley cat
Many a head snapped for double–even triple–takes as this vivacious
Feline made her her way into the delta of the alleyway where the most
Virile of the young tabbies were known to hang out
They hung in droves
Such a multitude of masculinity could only be found in one place
And that was O’Malley’s Alley